


Fire and Rain

by Dojh167



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Community: HPFT, F/M, Hogwarts, One Shot, Romance, Through the Years, otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7109758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dojh167/pseuds/Dojh167
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div>
  <p>
    <br/>
    <em>I've seen fire and I've seen rain<br/>I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end<br/>I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend<br/>But I always thought that I'd see you again</em>
    <br/>
  </p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	Fire and Rain

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _Originally posted on HPFF on 8/22/15. Title and summary lyrics from Fire and Rain by James Taylor.  
>  Second Place in Unicorn_Charm & pointless-proclamations' Make Me Ship It Song Challenge.  
> _   
> 

_August 1992_

  
  
Draco Malfoy watched as his father slipped a small leather book into Ginny Weasley’s cauldron. He looked slowly from his father, towering above him, to this young girl, who he had not thought to look at twice.  
  
And why would he? She was a Weasley, toe to temple. Her robes were used and tattered. Even if they were undamaged they would be several years out of style. Her face seemed to match that of her family members who flanked her, freckle for freckle and flaming hair for hair.  
  
But there was more. Her eyes were different. While the other Weasleys were fire in outer coloring only, Ginny Weasley burned much deeper. She wasn’t even looking at Draco and he could feel the flame that crackled in her eyes, fuelled by the heat of her soul.  
  
She was just a silly little girl, of course. But his father had chosen her. Perhaps she really was something special after all.  


_May 1993_

  
  
The end of term feast was a true spectacle, the formality replaced by what could best be described as an overly sentimental pajama party.  
  
Draco watched with wide eyes as one by one the students who had vanished to the hospital wing over the year re-appeared. The rest of the school gasped and cheered, but their entrances registered no change on Draco’s face.  
  
And then little eleven-year-old Ginny Weasley limped in.  
  
Draco’s stoic expression melted away like chalk left out on a stormy day. Few others batted an eye at the girls’ appearance, but he knew better. She may not have been in the hospital wing as long as the others, but her fate had been sealed more firmly. Draco knew – he had seen the message.  
  
_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._  
  
And here she was, alive and well, that subtle heat radiating from her very core.  
  
Could nobody else see it? Somehow this child, this blood-traitor, this Weasley, was the most powerful person in the entire castle, and everything Draco thought he had known was wrong.  


_March 1994_

  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
The rain was falling in buckets and Draco was drenched to the core, but the Quidditch stands were not completely empty. Most people had rushed from the stands when the game was prematurely ended, driven by the combined misery of the storm and the Dementors. But when Draco saw Ginny Weasley rocking back and forth between gasped tears, he knew he could not leave her there alone.  
  
“Are you alright?” he repeated, this time shouting over the howling wind.  
  
Ginny heard him and looked up at him with wide eyes, the fire that he was accustomed to seeing there now muted by turbulent clouds. At first her face was an unmasked image of surprise at having being noticed, but her shock was quickly covered by a defensive scowl.  
  
“Get lost, Malfoy.”  
  
He ignored her hostility. “Where are your friends?”  
  
Ginny slowly turned her head towards him, her eyes wide and quivering. “Harry fell,” she whispered, as if pointing out the obvious.  
  
“Ah, of course,” Draco conceded as he took a seat beside her, ignoring the steady bombardment of pouring rain, “The Chosen One’s in trouble, so nobody else’s troubles matter.”  
  
Ginny quickly looked away, as if embarrassed to agree with his sentiment, but she made no effort to deny it.  
  
“The Dementors can be rough,” Draco acknowledged, guessing at the cause of her tears.  
  
Ginny nodded her head frantically. “They make me go back – the Chamber…”  
  
“Shh, it’s okay,” Draco automatically responded, wrapping his arm around her shoulders consolingly. She continued to rock back and forth in distress, and Draco let his body move with hers.  


_December 1994_

  
  
Draco’s attention was focused completely on the four feet below him as he waltzed an awkward waltz with Pansy, following the steps precisely as he had been taught.  
  
He had always feared dancing. His mother had been insisting he take dance lessons for years to prepare for the inevitable Pureblood Balls, but Draco has skirted the necessary as long as possible. Little had he known he would have to dance a ball at age fourteen, well before his customary coming of age ball.  
  
Pansy had confidence, but she lacked the skill to accompany it, and Draco found he had to take extra effort to ensure that her carefree steps didn’t lead them crashing into any neighboring partners or each other.  
  
Draco nearly stumbled himself as he caught sight of Ginny Weasley in the corner of his eye. She was only a third year and so he had not expect to see her tonight, but there was no doubt it was her. Ginny’s blazing light seemed to send sparks dancing among the icy blue decorations.  
  
She looked lovely. There was an understated simplicity to her robes. They were clean and presentable, though not the latest fashion. Draco thought that they gave her a vintage tone that only made her stand out more. And in such simple robes, her natural beauty was able to shine as bright as ever.  
  
He wondered who she had come with. Not Potter at least, he knew that much. Beyond that, it didn’t matter. Draco could feel no envy for the boy who had given him the gift of seeing her radiance tonight.  
  
Draco swore loudly as his attention was recaptured by the sharp pain of Pansy stepping on his foot.  


_February 1995_

  
  
“You’re beautiful!” The words rushed from Draco’s mouth like water from a faucet he had turned the wrong direction.  
  
“Shut up, Malfoy.” Ginny didn’t break her stride as she sauntered down the corridor.  


_September 1995_

  
  
Draco took a deep breath as the compartment door slid open. He was right, Ginny was alone. At least for the time being. He couldn’t lose his courage now.  
  
“We need to talk,” he said, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded as the words he had kept buried inside him fought to be free.  
  
Ginny kept her eyes fixed on the magazine in her hands. “I don’t see why.”  
  
Draco looked around desperately for support, but there was only the closed door at his back to keep him from retreating. The light through the window blinded him as the train roared past a rushing river, reflecting the blazing sun in all its glory.  
  
He hesitantly stepped forward and took a seat beside Ginny, three feet and a world of differences between them.  
  
“Did you get my letters?” Draco asked tentatively.  
  
There was a stretch of silence in which it seemed Ginny intended to go on ignoring him, but then the corner of her mouth twisted into a shy smile. “I had a hell of a time explaining that ridiculous owl of yours to my brothers.”  
  
Draco laughed in relief. “You didn’t respond,” he stated simply.  
  
Ginny shrugged. “I thought maybe you’d give up.”  
  
“How could I stop?”  
  
“Why did you even start?” Ginny demanded.  
  
“I’m in love with you.”  
  
“Oh please, Malfoy.” Ginny let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re in love with power.”  
  
“And who’s more powerful than you?”  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Your fantasy of me, for starters.”  
  
“Not possible!” Draco insisted. “Every time I speak to you I am more amazed. No fantasy could come close to the real you.”  
  
“You only like me because – ”  
  
“Why do you like me?” Draco retorted, commandeering her train of thought.  
  
Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but the soundless movement of her lips did nothing to protect her. In that moment they both knew that neither of them could deny their feelings, even if they could not both profess them aloud.  
  
Silence fell between them as they sat with three feet between them, looking straight ahead as their bodies rocked in time with the rhythm of the train.  


_April 1996_

  
  
Draco stood, casually leaning against the rough bark of an aged tree. He could not see the grounds proper from here – his vision was masked by the first several rows of tree of the Forbidden Forest.  
  
From just beyond his sightline came the snapping of branches. Draco’s heartbeat accelerated, pounding heavily in his chest, but he was not surprised. He had seen her see him. He had known she would come.  
  
Ginny Weasley appeared, standing perfectly between two large oaks.  
  
“How am I supposed to focus on Crup care with you prowling about?” she accused.  
  
“Not to mention Corner care.” Draco snorted.  
  
“I sent Michael back to the castle.” Ginny’s face did not change. “Told him I was going to get some flying in before dinner.”  
  
“Flying, eh?” Draco whispered as he stepped towards her.  
  
“Unless…” Ginny’s breath was hot and shallow on his neck. “You had any other ideas –”  
  
Draco ran his hands under the sleeves of her cloak. He trembled with desire as he felt her blazing flesh react to his cold touch.  
  
“How about we burn this forest to the ground?”  
  
He saw his response in the laughter of her hungry eyes, a look which he cherished even as it was overpowered by the incomparable sensations of being her powerful embrace.  
  
As she backed him against a tree, devouring him with her insatiable flame, it occurred to Draco that he would be unable to tell if the forest did go up in a blaze around them.  


_June 1996_

  
  
“I don’t want them to come here,” Draco said quietly.  
  
“That’s not a choice we get to make,” Narcissa snapped as she flicked her wand, sending the Malfoy family heirlooms from the mantelpiece to the waiting storage box.  
  
“But father wouldn’t have let – ”  
  
“Your father is gone,” Narcissa said harshly. She paused mid-stride, the weight of her words striking herself as much as Draco. She turned back to her son. “I’m sorry. But he made mistakes, and now we have to do what we must to survive.”  
  
Draco hung his head. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”  
  
Narcissa clamped a hand on her son’s shoulder. “You have no reason to fear. Your blood and loyalty will protect you.”  
  
Draco averted his eyes. “And if I want to protect somebody else?”  
  
He could not look his mother in the face. He knew the storm that he would see in her eyes, and he could not bear to imagine the shipwrecks that such storms caused.  


_September 1996_

  
  
“Ginny!” Draco called out in a whisper. “Ginny…! Weasley!”  
  
Ginny’s eyes darted quickly back at him through the heads of students swarming the corridor. She hesitated a moment before grabbing Draco by the arm and dragging him into the vacant adjoining classroom.  
  
“What is it?” she demanded as the door shut behind them.  
  
Draco awkwardly searched for words, but struggled to remember how he had ever charmed her in the first place.  
  
Ginny sighed. “Look, I’ve told you. We can’t do this anymore.”  
  
“Why?” Draco asked weakly.  
  
“I’m with Dean now. I can’t keep sneaking around and risk ruining what we have.”  
  
“What about what we have?” Draco insisted. Even now, in this fumbling interaction, he felt the intoxication of her closeness. She may not be burning with lust, but the heat of the embers in her eyes was undeniable.  
  
Ginny reached out and took his hand, leaving him with an unusually sentimental squeeze. “I’m sorry, Draco. We just don’t go together like people should. I’m fire, and you… You’re rain.”  


_May 1997_

  
  
Draco lay in the hospital wing, his torso stiff with pain, but that did not matter. Ginny Weasley was sitting at his side, looking down at him with deep concern and even caring. Nothing else mattered.  
  
“Ginny…” he whispered.  
  
“Shh,” Ginny gestured for him to be quiet. “Madam Pomfrey says you should try not to speak.”  
  
Draco gave a slight nod and turned his head to look down the ward. There was no sign of the matron. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been alone with Ginny.  
  
He searched for some way to express the windstorm of feelings inside his chest. Even if he had been able to speak, he didn’t know what words he could possibly say.  
  
Instead, he reached out a pale hand towards Ginny. She took it without objection.  
  
Her skin was as hot as it always had been. But holding her hand now, Draco realized that it was not only the heat of lust, but the warmth of dedication. He wondered what he had ever done to deserve either of those things.  
  
“Dean and I broke up,” she said suddenly.  
  
Draco’s eyes widened. He cocked his head to the side in to suggest a question.  
  
“He was never strong enough for me, anyway. And he didn’t let me be strong enough.”  
  
Draco smiled internally. That was his girl. Complicated and strong.  
  
“I don’t reckon I’ll be alone long.” She spoke now to the corner of the bedpost just beyond Draco’s head. Draco was hardly breathing, and it wasn’t because of the pain. He knew what he wanted her to say, and yet he didn’t know if he could handle it. Not now, not with the twisted hurricane that his life had become. And yet, with her in it…  
  
“I have a real shot with Harry and I’d be crazy not to take it.”  
  
Draco stared at her in disbelief. Whatever he had thought she was going to say, it wasn’t that.  
  
“Don’t be angry, Draco.” She glanced at his face for a brief moment, and then back at the bedpost.  
  
He sneered up at her. “Who’s angry? You go right ahead and date Potter.” His torso seared with pain as he spoke, but that made no difference now. “Burn like you do, until he is only ashes. And you know I’ll be here when he’s gone.”  


_May 1998_

  
  
The forest was on fire. The castle was on fire. The world was on fire.  
  
Draco spun around in circles, his wand brandishing wildly, but he had no idea who to attack or what to defend.  
  
Ginny. He could defend Ginny. There was no ambiguity there.  
  
More than that, he could save her. He could fight all of the forces of good and evil for her, and she would know what he had done to be with her.  
  
She was somewhere in this battle, fighting. Fighting more than him, probably. Stronger than him. She was not the one who needed saving today. She never had been.  


_October 2003_

  
  
Draco made no effort to shield himself as he walked down Diagon Alley in the heavy rain. An elderly wizard hurried past him, buried beneath a tattered umbrella. Draco laughed internally as he saw that this man was just as soaked as he was. No laughter made its way to his face.  
  
Draco shook his hair back as he entered the warm solace of The Leaky Cauldron, but made no effort to dry his robes. The rain was part of him now, there was no use fighting it.  
  
As he sat down at the bar, the barman regarded him casually. “Firewhisky?”  
  
Draco shook his head. “Just mead for me, thanks.”  
  
The barman vanished as Draco retrieved the copy of the Daily Prophet from his bag. Water had seeped in and soaked the edges of the pages, but they were still predominantly legible. He pried them apart with little interest.  
  
As the glass of mead was set down in front of him, Draco caught a glimpse of Ginny in a tabloid picture. He had grown accustomed to seeing her face in gossip and news stories alike, and yet he was never prepared when he saw those eyes staring blankly past him.  
  
Draco ran his fingers over the page, wiping away what residual water he could.  
  
The article carried news that Draco had long awaited hearing, and yet which elicited little reaction from him now. Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter had broken up, the split throwing the tabloid world atwitter as to what would become of their engagement plans.  
  
The article didn’t say the things that Draco wanted to know. It didn’t say what had caused the rift, it didn’t say who her heart longed for now, it didn’t say when he would see her again.  
  
Draco pushed the paper aside in resignation. He knew that he had no right to any of these things.  


_May 2005_

  
  
Ginny Weasley was here.  
  
The world froze as this truth blazed before Draco. He had not known she would be here. He had made up his mind long ago not to seek her out, and yet it was inevitable that they would run into each other one day.  
  
“Draco!”  
  
She had seen him and was crossing over to him. He hardly had time for his brain to catch up with himself before she was standing there, three feet from him.  
  
They stood suspended in silence before she broke the distance with a tight embrace. It was a friendly greeting, polite and chaste.  
  
“It’s good to see you again,” she said kindly.  
  
He nodded. “Yes, you too.”  
  
He did not know what to say. What could be said?  
  
The silence told him that she did not know what to say either.  


_July 2005_

  
  
“You once said that you’re fire and I’m rain.”  
  
Ginny nodded, her silent lips pursed.  
  
“Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, and I’ve decided it’s not true. Or maybe too true.”  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
“Well, you are fire, and yes, I am rain. But there’s more to it than that. Because there’s also rain in your soul. And you know there’s fire in mine.” Ginny’s lips twisted into a smile despite herself. “We’re not so simple as we used to think.”  
  
“That doesn’t mean we won’t burn each other,” Ginny protested feebly. “Or extinguish each other. Or – ”  
  
“Love each other?”  
  
Her anxious eyes watered as they looked into his resolute eyes, burning for her.


End file.
